


#Goals

by atc74writesSPN



Series: 2020 Kink Bingo [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Masturbation, Pining, Sex Toys, Squirting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-30
Updated: 2020-01-30
Packaged: 2021-02-26 10:01:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22472482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atc74writesSPN/pseuds/atc74writesSPN
Summary: Y/N has decided to make a resolution that she can stick to, or so she thinks. It will take hours and hours of research and proper motivation.
Relationships: Sam Winchester/Reader
Series: 2020 Kink Bingo [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1616878
Kudos: 30





	#Goals

**Author's Note:**

> Square(s) Filled: New Year’s Resolution for @spngenrebingo, Squirting for @spnkinkbingo
> 
> Warnings: sex toys, female masturbation, masturbation on a mission, frustration, pining, over exertion from said masturbation on a mission, squirting

Being a hunter wasn’t easy. Being a female hunter, less so. Being part of a dying breed meant there were less men available that were likely to understand what the life was like. How lonely it was. I wasn’t one for hookups and one night stands like so many others, so I settled a long time ago. I learned my own body and what I liked and didn’t. That didn’t mean that I didn’t indulge in the occasional good time Charlie, because, let’s be honest, sometimes you just need someone to fuck, silicone only gets you so far. And every once in a blue moon, I’d like to have an orgasm with someone else in the room. 

Maybe I’d read too much fanfiction. There was seemingly endless stories of how Clint, Bucky, Sam, Steve, Tony, and even Natasha could make their partners orgasm and squirt in less time than it took me to get a hand in my panties. 

A little over a year ago, I made myself a New Year’s Resolution. Again, as a hunter, it’s hard to know if I’ll even be alive tomorrow, so I usually don’t do that type of thing. But this? This was personal. Like a great hunter, I did my research. I read article after article. After months of experimenting and nothing, I hit a wall. I read the reviews and I purchased what I deemed to be the best products. Now, I just had to have the patience to wait for the packages to arrive. 

I was in the library researching some lore for another hunter while the boys were out on a supply run. The Bunker was my home, had been for a few years now since I got hurt and decided I was only cut out for so much solitude. Being friends with the Winchesters definitely had some perks, so I took them up on the offer to live and hunt with them. It was the smartest decision I had ever made in my hunting career. Being attracted to Sam was not. But, the more I got to know Sam on a personal level, the harder it was to push those feelings down, but I did it. And, only once I was alone in my room, did I allow my fantasies to take over. 

The ringing of my phone drew my attention. Seeing Dean’s face light up the screen, I smiled. “What’s up, loser?”

“You’re the loser, loser. What’s with all the damn packages, sweetheart? Gladys was a little miffed at all the room they were taking up,” Dean laughed. 

“Oh they came?” I asked, feeling a rush just at the thought of what those boxes contained. “Um, when are you gonna be back?” 

“On our way now,” Dean told me. “See you soon.” 

“Yep, bye!” I disconnected Dean’s call and did my little happy dance. It was going to be a good day. I finished up my research and emailed everything to my friend. I didn’t want anything distracting me from my current mission. 

I heard the slam of the door to the garage and bolted out of my seat, meeting Sam in the hall. I snatched the boxes he was carrying and made my escape to my bedroom, ensuring the door was locked behind me. I set them down on the desk and opened each one. I set the contents aside until everything was laid out before me. Again, being a hunter, I did my research. I read the instructions and remembered all the reviews before I decided. 

Once in my room, I emptied my bladder, then, using the sink, I prepped everything I planned on using, laying them carefully on the bed. I turned on some relaxing music and stripped down, grabbing a towel and laying it down on my bed. I sat and breathed deeply for a few minutes, letting my mind clear, before I filled it with the images I desired, the man I desired. Sam never failed to get my heart racing and juices flowing, even if he didn’t have the first clue what he did to me. 

I used my hands to explore my body, each dip and valley. The curve of my breasts, the stiff peaks of my nipples, hardened not only by the cool air in my room, but the arousal working its way through me. I tugged and twisted, sighing as pained pleasure sparked in my belly. One hand drifted further south, to the apex of my thighs, ghosting over my mound. Even though my touch was feather light, I could feel the slick gathering around my clit, just from the anticipation of what was coming. My thoughts turned to Sam and I ran a single finger through my slit, teasing my outer lips, dragging more wetness up and around the hood, easing my way. I rubbed slow circles, feeling the spark grow brighter. 

I reached the peak of my first orgasm quickly, growing more aroused with each passing moment. I imagined it was Sam’s hands on me, making me feel this way. It never failed to get me there and back, more than a few times. I pictured his chestnut locks locked between my thighs as I flew higher and higher. It was his fingers deep inside me, massaging my walls, searching for the elusive ‘x’ that marks the spot. 

I pinched my nipples, hissing at the sting, then rubbed soothingly, as I imagined Sam’s tongue would ebb the pain inflicted there. Pushing my middle and ring fingers further in my tight channel, I increased my pace, hips rocking up into my hand, my wrist rubbing just over my clit, enough to push me into another orgasm. A soft moan left my mouth as rode out the wave, stroking my fingers slowly, but never easing up. I reached for the [Njoy wand](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.amazon.com%2Fgp%2Fproduct%2FB00FEKPCTU%2Fref%3Dppx_yo_dt_b_asin_title_o09_s00%3Fie%3DUTF8%26psc%3D1&t=MWVjNGJjOWQ2NGE5NjFiZWNlZDZhOWJkOThlNWI0OGIxNDlmMTU2ZCxaWXpzVzhQSg%3D%3D&b=t%3AuR2V_iyndXB1KLvk--dDjg&p=https%3A%2F%2Fatc74.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F190447634146%2Fgoals&m=1), heavy and cold in my hand. I angled the bulbous tip near my entrance, the cold shocking my system the moment it hit my heated center. Applying only a bit of pressure, I sighed as one and a half pounds of cold, stainless steel slid inside my tight pussy. 

The feeling was beyond belief, and it wasn’t just the chill of the steel. The feeling of being full, the feel of something that is designed specifically for a woman’s body for one purpose, one goal. I rocked my hips, I teased my clit and, within minutes, was hurtling toward another orgasm, this one stronger than the previous two. Previous experience and extensive research told me I needed to keep going. 

Over the course of the next hour, I tried several techniques. I gently thrusted the wand, I rocked it from side to side, I pressed, applying more pressure than it already provided. I used a combination and the sensations were overwhelming, but I just couldn’t achieve my end goal. After ninety minutes and four orgasms, I gave up. On shaky legs, I peed and cleaned myself and the wand, placing it back in the case. I hid everything in the bottom of the chest in my closet and dressed. My legs may have been protesting the walk, but my stomach loudly insisted it be satisfied. 

I made it to the kitchen, only bouncing off the walls twice. I grabbed a bottle of water and everything I needed for a pb & j and sat at the table before my legs gave out. I sighed heavily as I smeared the nutty goodness on a piece of bread, before doing the same to the other piece. Lastly, after cleaning the knife off, I added the grape jelly and put the two slices together. 

“Why do you put peanut butter on both sides?” Sam asked. 

With a yelp, I slid right off my stool onto the cold stone floor. “Jesus christ, Sam! Give a girl a goddamned heart attack!” 

“Oh my god! Y/N, I am so sorry!” Sam apologized, rushing to help me to feet. 

My muscles, however, were not as cooperative as he and, on the first try, I missed the seat entirely. Luckily, my knight in shining flannel was there to catch me. Sam put his arms around my waist to steady me and his scent invaded my nose. I mumbled incoherently. 

“Y/N? Are you okay?” Sam asked, brows furrowed. He moved to the seat next to me and looked me over suspiciously. “There wasn’t something cursed in one of those boxes you received, was there?”

“No, no, Sam. I’m fine. Just really tired. I was working out and my muscles are just sore, I guess,” I brushed him off and went back to my sandwich. I found eating my favorite snack difficult however, with those golden kaleidoscope eyes watching me. 

Sam cleared his throat. “So why peanut butter on both sides?” 

I laughed a little because everyone who has ever witnessed me make this sandwich has asked that same question. “So, you know how the jelly just kinda soaks into the bread? Well, the peanut butter acts as a barrier, so the jelly side doesn’t get soggy and fingers don’t get sticky from the jelly soaked bread.” I shrugged, taking a bite and offering him the other half. 

“I never knew you were so clever in the kitchen,” Sam smiled, taking a bite. 

“Oh there is a plethora of things you do not know about me, Samuel,” I smiled. “Plus, you can never have too much peanut butter on a sandwich.” 

We enjoyed the shared sandwich for a few more minutes before I tried to stand to go back to my room for a nap, but my right leg gave out. 

“Whoa! I gotchya,” Sam said, picking me up like I weighed nothing. 

“What are you doing?” I asked, mortified that my ninety minute session had only managed to turn me into a puddle, instead of creating the puddle I was aiming for. On the plus side, Sam was carrying me, holding me tight in those ridiculously long, strong arms, surrounding me with his musk. I closed my eyes and breathed in as deeply and as quietly as possible. 

“You clearly overexerted yourself, Y/N. I’m not just going to leave you be and risk you falling and hurting yourself,” Sam stated, turning down the hall where our bedrooms were located. He stopped in front of room twenty, my room. “Can you reach the knob?” 

“What? Oh yeah, sorry.” I reached down and turned the knob with a flick of my wrist. 

Sam walked over to my bed and set me down gently. I noticed the towel still there from my earlier activities. My failed experiment. I snatched it up and quickly threw it in the hamper. “Are you okay?” 

“Me? Yeah, fine. I’m just tired, I think. Thank you, Sam, for helping me.” I forced a smile. 

“Of course. Just text me if you need anything, okay?” he said, leaning over and pressing a kiss to the top of my head. I swear I heard him sniff, but over the beating of my heart, it was hard to distinguish other sounds in the room. Sam turned and walked out, giving me a small smile before he shut the door behind him. 

I fell backwards, hands over my eyes. I was a mess from earlier, now I was an even bigger mess after the encounter with Sam. Maybe I did need a nap, or maybe I needed a drink. I definitely needed to do more research. 

~*~

Being a hunter sucked. It wasn’t just the shitty hours, greasy food, and questionable accommodations. It was blood and guts everywhere. It was a constant kink in my neck and back pain from sleeping in the backseat of the Impala. It was never having enough time to relax and pleasure myself. It sucked. 

It had been months, and I was still no closer to fulfilling my New Year’s Resolution than I was when I started. I had more orgasms than I can shake a steel dildo at, but still no squirting. 

I had my bag over my shoulder, ready to bolt from the car the minute Dean placed her in park. I threw open the door and climbed out, calling over my shoulder. “We deserve at least three days off!” 

Once inside the stillness of the Bunker, I headed straight to my room. I dumped my bag and grabbed everything I needed and rushed to the shower room. I felt grimy and gross, the stench of the last hunt steeped deep in my bones. The water was hot, probably too hot, but, as I washed up, I let the stress and the loss rinse down the drain. 

The thought of being alone sent shivers across my skin. I didn’t have to share a room, a bed, with one of my friends, especially one I was undeniably attracted to. Sharing a bed with Sam was downright stressful and exhausting. One more than one occasion I woke in the middle of the night with a hand in my panties, panting Sam’s name as he brought me to heights I’d never experienced in real life, only in my dreams. Dreams. Dreams come when we sleep, therefore I barely slept on hunts anymore. But, I’d been hiding these feelings so long, it too became second nature by now. 

After dressing, I grabbed water and snacks from the kitchen and beelined it back to my room. I wasn’t going to risk running into Sam again after some much needed alone time. Behind my locked door, I discarded my hastily thrown on clothes and prepared my space, both physical and mental. I lit a few stress relief candles, hit play on a carefully chosen playlist, and gathered my two favorite toys, freshly disinfected and waiting. 

The articles I recently read stressed that a relaxed mind and body are as pivotal as arousal. I practiced some deep breathing, all the while thinking of Sam. How large and capable his hands were. How his chest heaves after a vigorous run or a hard hunt. How sweat gathers in the hollow of his throat. My own longing to lap it up with my tongue when I finally get his body close to mine. 

I felt a tingle spread through my body, across my skin, and settle deep in my core. My hands trailed down my neck to my breasts, plucking my nipples, twisting and pulling. My right hand traveled further down, pressing down over my soft mound, a gentle pressure building. I dragged two fingers through my folds, gathering my wetness to ease the circles over my clit. Massaging with practiced movements, I drove myself toward the edge. The first orgasm, long overdue, came quickly. A quiet moan escaped my lips as my legs shook. 

I reached over and grabbed my steel dildo, the metal cold and heavy in my hand. I placed it against my entrance, hot and clenching, anticipating it’s heft. The cool steel slid inside easily and felt soothing on my heated flesh. I rolled my hips forward, testing the feel of it inside me. The stout head caressing my inner walls as I tightened around it. I returned attention to my clit as the solid knob worked me from the inside, building up another orgasm, this one stronger than the first. 

I was relaxed and my mind was clear, save my thoughts of Sam. The phantom feeling of his hands, his lips exploring every inch of me while driving me mad with ecstasy. My breaths were coming quickly, my tits heaving with every flick of his tongue. Imagining Sam pleasure me turned me on more than watching or reading porn, it was like we starred in our very own film, safe in my mind and more erotic than anything I’d come across before. 

“Yes, Sam, right there,” I murmured, wanting more. My fingers moved faster, my hips rocked erratically as I chased my orgasm. “Ungh!” My coil snapped, my back arched off the bed and my limbs quaked with the release. 

I didn’t back off, but bore down on the feeling and doubled my efforts. Three more powerful orgasms later, I was exhausted, sated, but still unfulfilled. Frustration bubbled under the surface as I cleaned up my toys. At this stage in my experimentation, I came to two conclusions. One, fanfiction had set unrealistic expectations for readers, or at least for me. And two, I didn’t think I even had a g-spot. Fuck this shit! I set them aside and redressed, heading to the library for the good stuff Dean kept hidden in the cabinet.

I took a seat in one of the comfortable armchairs in the reading nook and was three bourbons in when Sam entered the library. I didn’t speak, I just sat back and watched him. Most would find it creepy, stalkerish even. But, Sam Winchester was a site to behold. He was strong and solid, brilliant and brave. If he was a national landmark, I think he would be the Grand Canyon, vast with an ever changing chroma. 

The legs of the chair screeched against the cold stone floor when Sam pulled it out to sit, his back to me. He sighed heavily as he opened his laptop. I hoped to God he wasn’t looking for a new case because I knew I demanded at least three days rest. I could see his screen, but couldn’t read it from where I was hidden from his view. Lest I continue to creep, I cleared my throat. “Hey, Sam.” 

“Oh christ, Y/N!” He whipped his head around, chair scraping against the floor. “What the hell are you doing lurking in the shadows?” 

“I was feeling creepy, but lurking. That’s a good word. Way more powerful than creepy,” I rambled, tinkling the ice left in my glass. “Want one?” 

“Honestly, a drink sounds great,” Sam said. He stood to his full height, sauntering toward the empty chair in the alcove. I unabashedly watched the long, lean line of him. He lowered himself to the cracked leather seat. I grabbed another tumbler, the etched crystal cool under my fingertips as I poured him three fingers of the smooth amber spirit. His fingers brushed against mine as we exchanged the crystal, heat lighting me up from the accidental touch. He blushed. It was a nice look on him. “Thanks.” 

“Tell me you weren’t looking for a case, Sam,” I sighed, pouring myself another. 

“No, not at all. I was going to…I don’t even know. It seems all we do these days is hunt and research and I guess it was habit, you know? We should do this more often,” Sam surmised, taking a healthy drink. “Damn, this is good.” 

“Dean’s gonna be pissed when he finds out I raided his stash,” I giggled, feeling the effects of the booze running through my veins. 

“He’s out looking for love in all the wrong places. I’m sure he’ll get over it,” Sam agreed with a shrug. 

“Being a hunter sucks, Sam,” I griped. “It’s such a lonely fucking existence.” 

“Yeah, it can be. But I’ve got Dean, and you,” Sam replied. “Things could be worse, Y/N.” 

“Yeah? How so, Sammy?” I looked him in the eye, getting lost there in the swirls of gold and green.

“We could be alone. At least we have each other. If we didn’t, it would be so much worse.” Sam raised his glass. “To friendship.” 

“To friendship,” I echoed. “And, attaining our goals, no matter how big or small.” 

“Goals? What are your goals, Y/N?” Sam eyed me over the rim of his glass. 

“Oh no, Sam Winchester. A girl’s gotta have her secrets,” I tsked. “And, you’re not learning mine.” 

“Fine, I won’t pry. But, I’m really glad you decided to stick around. I like having you here. I sleep better knowing both you and my brother have my back,” Sam admitted. He stood and moved in front of me, leaning over and pressed a lingering kiss to my forehead. “Thanks for the drink, Y/N. Good night.” 

I closed my eyes and heard his footsteps fade away. “Goodnight, Sam.” 

I refilled my glass and returned to my room. It was later than I thought, but now was as good a time as any. I was more relaxed than I had been earlier, with Dean’s bourbon warming my soul and washing away my inhibitions. 

I relit the candles and stripped sloppily, grabbing the stupid steel wand that silently mocked me. One more go round, I told myself. If this didn’t work, maybe I didn’t even have a g-spot. I was still slightly slick from my earlier activities and probably from watching Sam. Two fingers slid easily through my folds and inside me. I gathered my own wetness, rubbing out two quick clitoral orgasms, moaning my way through them softly. 

I pumped two fingers in slowly, feeling for that elusive little spot that promised to show me pleasures beyond my wildest dreams. I felt something, spongy to the touch, slightly ridged, distinctly different from the smoothness that surrounded it. I’d been here before, but never in this inebriated state. I was warm, flushed from the inside both from the booze and my hormones, probably also from Sam. Always Sam. Convinced I was on the right track, I pressed, massaging it lightly with my middle finger and I definitely felt something. 

I inserted the large end of the dildo, gasping at the coldness as it settled into my channel. I rocked my hips forward and rubbed my clit. I could feel another climax coming swiftly. I roughly pinched my nipples, alternating between them, the tiny sting of pain, pushing me further, the proverbial coil tightening. Orgasms three followed me down the rabbit hole, and I kept on, my hormones now the driving force behind my desire, not my determination. 

My moans bounced off the tiled walls, I added my bullet vibrator to the mix, the buzz tinny when it met the steel wand, but it felt so good. I was sweating now, my limbs shaking with the exertion as I sought my end. The pressure of the wand was intense and I felt like I might pee. Keep going, Y/N, my inner voice said. You have to push past it.

I whined against the pressure, everything suddenly felt too much. The vibrations on my clit and the wand, driving me home. My movements were jumbled, legs shaking, hips thrusting, head thrashing. Sam’s face was on my mind, his brows furrowed as he concentrated on the end goal. “Sam!” I cried, rocking faster, rubbing harder. I threw my head back, crying out his name as I inched closer and closer. “Sam! Sam! Oh my god!” 

The pressure was unlike anything I’d ever experienced and I bore down as electricity ripped through my body, my back off the bed as I succumbed to the intensity, letting it ravish my senses. My juices steadily flowed from my center, soaking my hand, the vibrator, and the bedsheets. I did it. I can’t believe I finally did it. It wasn’t as much as I hoped, but let’s face it, porn sets unrealistic expectations, but I god damn did it. 

I collapsed on the bed, heavy with exhaustion but lighter than I’d ever felt. I finally caught my breath and opened my eyes, only to see light pouring in from the hallway, Sam’s large frame filling my doorway. 

“Sam!” I shrieked, trying to cover myself, horrified. “What the hell are you doing in here?” 

“I heard you screaming, I came to check on you, but this was not what I was expecting. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have stayed, I shouldn’t have watched, but you screamed my name and then squirted. It was the hottest, sexiest thing I’ve ever seen,” Sam divulged, walking over to sit on the edge of my bed. “I’m sorry if this is the world’s worst timing, but I think I’ve been in love with you for years, and I’d really like to make you do that again.” 

“That’s probably the best thing I’ve heard in months, Sam,” I smiled, pulling him down to me. “I’d really like that, too. But, maybe tomorrow. After months of trying, I finally conquered my New Year’s Resolution and now I’d like to sleep. But stay, please.” 

“I’m not going anywhere. But, first let’s get you cleaned up,” Sam suggested, picking me up and carrying me to the shower room. He gently set me down on the sturdy bench after making sure the water was at the perfect temperature. He handed me a wet cloth and my body wash, but left me to do my business. When I finished, he met me with a fluffy towel, wrapping me up and carrying me to his room. 

“I hope you don’t mind, but yours is a little wet,” Sam chuckled, helping me into a t-shirt and boxers. 

“It’s nice and smells like you,” I yawned, crawling into his bed. 

Sam joined me and held me close as I drifted off. “This is all I’ve ever wanted,” he whispered. 

“I got two things I’ve wanted tonight. Hashtag goals.”


End file.
